Wednesday, May 2, 2012

The Brain Fart

“So, why was Katarina…uh…um…”  I began to stutter.

 “What?” asked Linda.

Crap! What was that word? I certainly wasn’t going to confess my brain fart to my 17-year old daughter, who has no empathy for my occasional senior moments.

“So, why was Katarina prohibited from leaving her home?“
“Mom, what are you talking about?”

My mind kept searching unsuccessfully for the word.

“What did Katarina do that caused her parents to constrain her to her house?"
“Mom! Speak English!”

Come on brain!!! Think!!!

“She isn’t allowed to leave the house for the weekend, right?”  I tried.
“Oh, right.”
“Why not?”
 “I don’t know.”

Then it came to me. After 4 minutes of ineffective lumbering around the lobes of my brain, the word appeared, like a stranger at my front door. “Hello, were you looking for me?”

"GROUNDED!!!" I practically screamed the word.

I said to Linda,"I thought Katarina was grounded".  
"That's all,”  I added casually.

But on a positive note, there’s nothing like a brain fart to help hone one’s acting skills.

I’ll give Meryl Streep a run for her money by the time I hit 65.

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